


March of the Penguins

by ShitpostingfromtheBarricade



Series: Web Series AU [9]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Don't copy to another site, Enjolras POV, Established Relationship, M/M, Relationship Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 06:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17861774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade/pseuds/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade
Summary: Enjolras has a bad day, but coming home to his boyfriend is enough to make things better.This is the accompanying piece toEpisode 78of theMysteries of 24601 Web Series AU.  This will mostly make sense if read by itself, but it will make more sense and be more satisfying to read within the context of the series.Warnings:none





	March of the Penguins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PieceOfCait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieceOfCait/gifts).



> Rather than being beta-read by [PieceOfCait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieceOfCait/pseuds/PieceOfCait), this piece is dedicated to her. She suggested "baby penguin levels of ExR fluffiness" after looking over ep 78 then actually believed me when I told her I wasn't so sure about it. Hahahahahahahahahah.
> 
> (but also this is seriously the first fic I've posted since mid-October 2018 without her looking at it first, she's a rockstar, and hopefully this meets her standards--and yours)

It isn’t until the door shuts behind him that Enjolras feels like he can take his first deep breath in hours. It’s been a terrible day: a closed-off portion of campus meant that he had arrived late to class, he missed his usual train to his internship, and by lunchtime he had a large coffee stain across the front of his shirt. The afternoon was an improvement only in that nothing bad actively happened to him, but the paperwork dragged, and he'd been informed that he’d have to rewrite several proposals from the bottom-up. 

Despite all of that, it’s hard to stay mad when he knows Grantaire awaits him at their apartment.

Grantaire is moving around the kitchen, humming along to a strings piece as he stirs something on the stove.

“Does it smell delicious?” Enjolras asks, leaning over the breakfast bar for a kiss.

“The greatest,” Grantaire responds following the peck, eyes twinkling. Enjolras is tempted to park himself at one of the barstools just to watch his boyfriend dancing across the kitchen in smooth, rhythmic movements. “What happened to your shirt?”

Enjolras is brought out of his reverie with a sigh. “Today could have been better.”

“Hmm. Well, get showered and changed, and we’ll see what we can do about that.”

Enjolras’s chest feels like it might burst, and he’s warmed from the inside out. On entering the bathroom he quickly strips and hops in the shower, washing up with that soap Grantaire once said is his favorite smell in the entire world. He dries himself off and deliberately picks out the comfiest snuggle-clothing he can find: a pair of flannel pajama pants and a soft t-shirt that these days only belongs to Grantaire in name.

By the time Enjolras is walking out to the kitchen, Grantaire already has the table set. It’s usually Enjolras’s job since he’s forbidden from assisting with cooking.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Enjolras says, looking back to his boyfriend.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” the man grins, spooning sauce over two plates, “but I wanted to.”

Enjolras sits down in time for Grantaire to swoop in, delivering a plate to each of their settings and a kiss to his cheek. Enjolras’s face tips down to his lap from the force of the smile that follows. When he looks back up to where Grantaire sits across from him, he sees the man grinning just as hard. Enjolras only barely resists the urge to pull his boyfriend across the table and pepper his entire face with kisses. As such, staring at him like the smitten idiot he is seems like a reasonable compromise.

This is probably why he already has his fork in his hand before he can tear his eyes off of Grantaire long enough to identify the food in front of him.

“This is--”

“Your favorite food?” Grantaire grins. “Took you long enough.”

Enjolras rolls his eyes, returning his attention to the man across from him. At this rate, he might happily starve this evening. “I was a bit preoccupied.” He looks at Grantaire meaningfully, and the man blushes. 

“Eat your food before it gets cold, Sauron,” Grantaire teases.

Enjolras laughs. “Sauron?”

“All-seeing, everwatching?”

Enjolras nods. “Seems fair.” He returns his attention to the food before him, savoring the burst of flavor and texture. “This is amazing, thank you.”

He feels Grantaire’s foot nudge him under the table, and the last of his bad day falls away.

-

Enjolras sits with his back against the couch. He’s propped up on either side by R’s legs as the man runs a comb through his hair, effectively turning Enjolras into putty.

“Hey R.”

“Yeah?” Technically there’s a movie on, but Enjolras is pretty sure neither of them have paid any mind to it since it was selected from their watchlist with a handheld nerf gun nearly an hour ago. Enjolras can attest for the veracity of his half of that statement, at the very least.

“You started making ratatouille before you knew I’d had a bad day.”

“Yeah.” Grantaire continues gently tugging the comb through Enjolras’s hair in even pulls.

“Why?”

“Because I’m in a good mood,” Grantaire responds matter-of-factly, planting a kiss on Enjolras’s forehead.

Enjolras hums happily. He considers asking if anything in particular had caused it, but he assumes that Grantaire will tell him if he wants to volunteer the information. His boyfriend has been known to be in a good mood for no reason before, and Enjolras sees no point in pushing the subject.

They sit in quiet harmony for several more minutes before Grantaire speaks up again.

“Cosette’s new episode went up today.”

“Mmm.” Enjolras hadn’t been especially interested in doing it, but Cosette had made it sound like Grantaire would want him to, which was reason enough for him.

“Have you watched it?”

Enjolras snorts. “I was there, why would I need to watch it?”

Grantaire chuckles behind him, and the sound warms Enjolras. “I know you try to keep up with our friends’ stuff.”

Enjolras pulls away and shuffles around, resting his palms on Grantaire’s knees and looking up at him. “I’m gonna let you in on a secret: I listen to the historical episodes of Combeferre’s podcast. That’s it.”

“You watch Courf and my channels all the time. And I know you’ve seen at least one episode of Cosette’s.”

“Yes. One.” Enjolras raises his eyebrows. “Consider what those things have in common.”

Grantaire mock-gasps. “Enjolras, is that inherent bias I detect?” The man falls back on the sofa as Enjolras pushes himself to his knees.

“Yep,” he says deliberately, leaning over Grantaire to briefly press their lips together. “My time is a slave to my interests. Not even Courf compel me to watch a Youtube series about Cosette’s father’s mysterious backstory if he felt so moved. Which he has.” He stacks his hands on Grantaire’s chest, resting his chin atop them and nearly purring when Grantaire wraps his arms around Enjolras.

“I dunno, you seemed pretty compelled in the video.”

Enjolras chokes on air. “You watched it.”

“I introduced Courf to the series, of course I watched it. You were cute.” Grantaire pulls one hand from Enjolras’s to rub his thumb in light strokes across Enjolras’s cheek. “Cosette definitely conned you though.”

“I suspected as much,” Enjolras sighs. “It seemed to make her happy, though.”

“She’s a lot happier than I think she ever has been,” agrees Grantaire. “And I think she’s excited to show that happiness off to the world.”

Grantaire starts tugging his fingers through Enjolras’s hair again, and Enjolras lays his cheek on his hands, basking in the moment.

“So...did you mean what you said?”

“Mm? Probably. Which part? Cosette told me she was cutting my ‘rant,’ as she called it, against the prison industrial complex—did she change her mind?”

“I’ve heard your views on the prison industrial complex, and I can guarantee that it was indeed a rant,” the man chuckles, still carding through Enjolras’s hair soothingly. “No, she didn’t. I meant uh. The handholding. And the rings? And wanting to...to get married.”

Enjolras’s eyes jolt open as he pulls himself upright in horror. “Oh my God, R, I didn’t--we were using our names, Cosette told us we were done for the day. I didn’t realize--I didn’t think--” His mind is racing. Grantaire gets nervous about committing to things and is especially wary of taking steps forward in their relationship. Hell, he still pays rent on a spare room in Éponine’s apartment in case things go south with their current living arrangement. “I’m not holding you to anything. Please don’t feel like anything needs to change, it doesn’t, I am very happy with what we’re doing now, and--”

“Enj Enj Enj,” Grantaire murmurs soothingly, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Enjolras’s waist. He pulls Enjolras in close, _shh_ ing behind his ear as Enjolras feels the tension begin to leave his body. Grantaire pulls back enough that Enjolras can see his face. “I am not upset with you.”

He doesn’t look upset, either: Grantaire’s face looks serene and peaceful, and he has a soft smile shaping his expression.

“You’re...you’re not?”

“I mean, you’re right, I’m not ready to get married. I’m not sure when or even if I ever will be: my parents’ marriage didn’t exactly instill a lot of faith in me in the institution,” Grantaire says, voice taking a sardonic edge. His expression softens before he continues. “But if there’s anyone worth believing in it for, it’d be you.

Grantaire leans in and presses a kiss to Enjolras’s temple before continuing. “And I promise, as soon as I am ready, I’ll let you know, and we can buy the most domestic rings set our budget can afford and have the most hideously boring wedding and adopt exactly 2.5 kids and--”

Enjolras doesn’t let him finish the thought, surging forward to pull the man into a crushing kiss. He feels his boyfriend smile into it, matching him and shaping the kiss into gentle, burning draws until Enjolras reluctantly separates them.

“You as you are will always be enough for me,” Enjolras informs him firmly. “As long as I am with you, I will be happy.”

Grantaire smiles adoringly at him, bestowing a smattering of kisses on Enjolras’s forehead before standing.

“Where are you going?” 

Grantaire responds by reaching for Enjolras’s hand and pulling him to his feet. “If we leave now, we might be able to get to the Musain to order a slice of that awful cake you like so much, and then we can head down to--”

Enjolras pulls Grantaire so the man is facing him, mere inches away. He reaches up to play with a dark ringlet fondly. “I’d actually rather celebrate this momentous occasion by staying in, if you don’t mind.”

Grantaire searches his face, and for a split-second he worries the man might actually contest his preference. The moment passes when the dark-haired man exhales, a smile breaking across his face like a wave on the shore.

“Okay. Let’s get back to not-watching our movie, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> The next episode is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561900/chapters/42272360#workskin).
> 
> If you like this, please comment below and/or reach out to me at [tumblr](http://shitpostingfromthebarricade.tumblr.com). :D


End file.
